The Mercenaries
by Northmen
Summary: Darus Astevus was once the leader of one of the most succesful mercenary bands to roam the Eastern Kingdoms. But after a great tragedy struck, he abandonded his fellows, silently vowing never to return. But fate has other plans...
1. Chapter 1

**Day One**

* * *

It was in the middle of a dazzlingly and beautiful evening dusk that the man arrived at the pass. His brown stallion whined in exhaustion, his iron horseshoes clipping slowly up the stone pebble streets.

"We're almost there boy," said the man bracingly, patting the horse on the head.

The horse rolled his eyes at him and snorted in reply.

Several moments later the building appeared, a lone black tower sitting on a hill of green. The sun had nearly finished its glorious descent and the towers shadow was long against the trees. The top of the tower lay in ruins but the base of the structure remained strong and intact.

"Varin's Tower," he muttered darkly, "That wizard better pay good."

The land steepened and the horse whined again but the man ignored him.

Finally they arrived at the door. Swinging off his horse, the man touched lightly on the ground his gray and blue cloak falling down around him. His grey eyes were hard as he approached and knocked on the door.

The door swung open as if on cue and a brown disheveled man stepped out. His robes were brown and dirty, his glasses round and thick. He had a great white beard that hung past his chest.

"Hello?" he asked squinting.

"It's me."

"Who?"

"The man you hired."

"I hire lots of people; you can't expect me to remember them all!"

"I'm Darus Astevus," he said with annoyed tone, "You hired me to-"

"To reclaim the Gem of Varin!" finished the tower dweller excitedly. He looked at him with a sudden cunning awareness.

"Do you have it?"

Darus undid a pouch on his leather belt, and grasped it with a gauntleted hand. Considering something, he hesitated for a moment, before tossing it over to the man. The old wizard's claw like hand shot out like a viper catching it before it fell.

"Of course I do," Darus replied.

The man looked into the pouch and smiled. He dug into the deep pockets of his robe and drew forth a handful of coins. They glittered in the dying sunlight. Most shined silver but Darus noted the occasional gold shine with an appreciative growl. Taking the coins into his hand he quickly redistributed them ito one of his own pockets. He then dipped slightly in a bow.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

He turned to leave when the man asked, "I hope the gem's original owner didn't give you too much trouble."

Darus held back a grimace, "She chose to fight back. She is dead now."

He glanced back to see the old man nodding gravely, "Pity."

Then the wizard closed the door and Darus was alone with his horse.

"Let's go Daunter," he whispered after a moment, leading the horse by the reigns as he walked down the path to Darrowshire.

* * *

Several hours later found Darus on the outskirts of town near the ruined old tower, at the bar of an inn known as the Hanged Man's Luck, his horse Daunter snug and fed in the innkeepers stable.

He sat drinking his sad excuse for a beer an expectant look on his face, almost as if he was waiting for something. It better not be much longer, he thought. He fully intended to getting raving drunk tonight. Suddenly a single agonized scream ripped through the air carried on a heavy wind. Nearly all residents of the room froze in terror. Darus grinned widely.

"That sounds like it came from Varin's Tower," murmured one man softly.

"The scream of a dying man," whispered a gnarled scarred town watchman.

Darus hailed the bartender, who after a moment's, reluctance shuffled over.

"I'll have a pint of your best drink good sir," said Darus still grinning.

The man moved to the back room and returned with great wooden mug.

"So what's this for?" asked the man distractedly his eyes trained on the large inn door. Darus slid over several silver coins and replied,

"Celebration."

"For what?" asked the bewildered man.

"For a job well done."

* * *

"The gem belonged to a seventeen year old girl?" asked Mayor Ebonlocke in disbelief.

Darus nodded grimly, "The bastard had me convinced she was a succubus in disguise. I probably would have gutted the poor thing if Theocritus hadn't arrived in the nick of time."

"Theocritus? The Azora Tower Mage?"

"The one and only."

"The poison gem was his idea I assume?"

"Yes," Darus nodded, "And he paid me well to deliver it. Though for the life of me, I haven't been able to figure out what a mage of Azora is doing with a gem that kills anyone who touches it."

Ebonlocke gave a wry smile, "Have you been working for the Sanctum long now?"

"I've done a few jobs for them and they certainly pay well."

"I suppose strange times call for strange bedmates," Ebonlocke said before he cleared his throat and continued, "And speaking of strange times, there have been a number of odd occurrences in Raven Hill. Would you mind checking it out? I have coin to give."

Darus shook his head, "This was nothing but a courtesy call Ello. A heads up to my old friend not to worry about the happenings in Varin's Tower."

"Still…"

Darus held up his hand, "My business is in Elwynn."

The mayor leaned back with a sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"It's not like the garrison here is doing much," reasoned Darus, "Why don't you send a few of them to check it out?"

"I would if there were any here to spare."

"What do you mean?"

"The order came down a few days ago. There has been increased aggression by the native trolls against Stockcrown. Colonel Kurzen has requested more troops and the Stormwind nobility in all its eternal wisdom has decided to grant him his requesting– by taking them away from Darrowshire."

Darus opened his mouth but the Mayor ran over him.

"I mean Light! How am I supposed to look after the town when I spending all my time organizing the Night Watch? If the nobility in Stormwind would stop bleeding the town of the king's men, I might actually be able to keep the roads safe without stealing from the farms. And how am I supposed to raise taxes from people who spend all their time locked in doors for fear of their own shadows?"

He stopped suddenly. Leaning forward he murmured with a tone of defeat," You don't really care about this at all do you?"

Darus stood up, leaned over to pat his friend on the shoulder, and answered frankly, "No."

And with that the mercenary walked away.

* * *

Reposting this hella old story with some fixes and the intent of building on it provided anyone's interested. So if you liked the first chapter feel free to drop a review and I'll make sure there are plenty more. :D Though likely the story will take a dramatically different approach from the old one starting after chapter two. One last thing. I will be tinkering with the lore a bit so locations that don't exist in WoW, such as Stockcrown, may be mentioned throughout the story in an attempt to make Stormwind feel more like a real life kingdom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 9**

* * *

Darus rode at a steady but easy pace down the trodden dirt path. It had taken a day longer then it might have to reach Elwynn Forest, but Daunter was tired and Elwynn's bright and fair terrain was a happy contrast to the gloomy darkness that was fast overtaking Duskwood.

Before him rose a small stone tower whose glass windows just peaked over the forest roof. The Tower of Azora.

As he rode into the view of the tower's occupants, a small woman hurried out to greet him, brushing her hands across her blue colored apron as she ran.

"Welcome Master Darus," squeaked the gnomish woman as Darus dismounted.

A second gnome appeared as if out of thin air to grasp his horses reigns. Or at least tried to in any case. Daunter, uncomfortable with a touch that wasn't Darus's, neighed and lifted his head high, lifting the gnome off his feet. The green bearded man scowled as he swung several inches from the ground unwilling to relinquish his hold.

"O Barret let it go," scolded the gnome woman placing her hands on her hips.

"No! It's my job to stable the horses. I won't let a little height advantage let the animal get the best of me!" Barret retorted stubbornly.

Darus watched the comical sight with impatience.

"Daunter, obey," he snapped.

The horse lowered his head as he was bid, but glared daggers at Darus. The gnome began to lead the steed away, this time grabbing its saddle, Daunter holding his head as high as possible as if attempting to show he was only allowing this happen as a result of his benevolence.

"Theocritus is on the top floor dear," informed the gnome woman as she led Darus into the tower. The base floor was large and well lit from the light streaming through the door and windows above. Darus stomach growled jealously at the warm smell of fresh baked bread wafting off the long food lade table. It appeared he had arrived just in time for luncheon.

"Thank you Dolly," replied Darus allowing himself a small smile for the gnome woman. After all he was about to be paid for the second time in four days.

"Well then be off with you," said the woman turning her back on him and grabbing a mop.

Darus smile widened slightly. That's what he liked about the pink haired gnome woman. She understood him. Any other person would have chatted him up. Asked how his trip was. Ask him how the job went. But not Dolly. She knew Darus didn't want to talk and respected his silence.

Darus began to ascend the wooden steps, his eyes glancing over the numerous gnomes going about their daily duties; dusting bookcases, washing their master's prestigious wardrobe or fighting down the occasional rebellious floating broomstick. Arriving at the top floor he spotted the old mage staring intently at a shiny blue glyph.

Darus coughed heavily as he approached knocking the man out of his stupor.

"Ah Darus," spoke the mage sheepishly; "You startled me."

"The deed is done," said Darus brusquely, "The wizard is dead."

"Damn good job Darus," the mage exclaimed, "You've saved a young woman's life by doing this."

Darus scowled. It had turned out that the disguised "succubus" the old wizard in Varin's Tower had referred to had in fact just been an seventeen year old girl by the name of Alicia Coopers. Darus had been prepared to kill the woman out of that belief, though Theocritus had arrived just in time to inform him otherwise. Afterwards he had hired Darus to kill the wizard. The truth is that Darus probably would have done it anyways. Not for the sake of the girl but because he hated being lied to. But who was he to turn down coin for a job he intended to do anyways?

"Just give me the money so I can be on my way Theo," replied Darus gruffly.

"Ah Darus modest as always I see," said Theocritus looking down and patting his patting his robes. "I should have your money right here…"

After several moments he looked back up apologetically, "Must be in my other robes."

Dolly's exasperated voice floated up from the floor below, ""It's on the desk next you Master."

Theocritus plate white cheeks reddened slightly as he picked up the pouch, "Ah, so it is."

"Truly though, you did well," reiterated the mage as he handed the pouch over, "Myself and the Stormwind Sanctum owe you thanks."

"Why does the Sanctum owe me thanks?" asked Darus as he grabbed the coin pouch.

"The man was a rogue caster, an exile from the Sanctum."

Darus glared at him, "Somehow you failed to mention that before."

"Are you sure I didn't? I could have sworn I did. Besides it's not like we could order the some of the Stormwind Guard to take care of him. You see…" Theocritus paused and took a deep breath as he turned around to face the window. Darus cursed. He was about to explain himself, why must they always explain themselves?

"We've have never had the popularity the Church had. People just don't trust us. It didn't matter when the spires of Dalaran stood strong but after their kingdom fell into ruin," he gave a troubled frown, "We've just been out of place. People just don't trust what they don't understand. And while most magicians are hardly powerful enough to be dangerous, it doesn't stop people from associating dark powers with our work. Can you believe some people believe we were responsible for the Scourge? Its ridicules! But despite those nasty rumors we're still working hard to gain the common folks trust and I think we are actually starting to make headway. Still we are a far cry from popular and the last thing we need is tales of a mad evil wizard killing innocent young teenagers circulating the kingdom."

Theocritus turned around to face Darus directly, "You can understand why that is a problem?"

Suddenly he blinked and looked around the room, "Darus? Darus? Where did you go?"

* * *

Darus, mounted on Daunter, rode out in front of the tower. Dolly stood there waiting for him a package of fresh food in her hands.

"Theo is going to be leaving for the Redridge Mountain soon. If you want to get in touch with him you'll have to wait several weeks or make the trip to see him yourself," she said as Darus thanked her for the gift and stuffed the package into one of his saddle bags.

Darus gave a coarse laugh, "I don't think I'll need to talk to that old stick anytime soon."

Dolly gave a mysterious smile and smacked Daunter's flank. With a leap the horse burst into a gallop down the road.

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," she whispered before walking back inside.

* * *

Darus leaned against the thick oak tree with a sigh as he stated up into the starry night sky. The following noon would see him in Abell and some solid bed sheets. Reaching down to his belt, Varus drew forth the pouch Theocritus had given him. That money belonged in one of his numerous hidden pockets, not hanging on his belt, easy bait for a nimble thief.

He opened the pouch and poured out its contents. His eyes widened. The bastard had stiffed him a third of his reward.

"Son of a bitc-!"

* * *

Hope you liked the second chapter. Be a boss and drop a review or constructive criticism (especially the latter). I know you probably hear it a lot but I can't understate how much writers love it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 10**

* * *

It was nearing noon when Darus galloped up the small hill overlooking the small ferry outpost responsible for moving travelers across the small but furious river of Bluerun. He had a job lined up in the small hamlet of Abell. Ebonlocke wasn't the only leader in Stormwind who was struggling with the lack of protection afforded by the crown's soldiery. The growing struggle in the steamy southern jungle had caused men all across the land to be drafted into service.

Darus had encountered a runner requesting assistance for the mining settlement a day before arriving at Azora Tower. The pay had been more than generous for the deed. The miners at Abell had encountered a family of kobolds in one of their new tunnels. The nobleman who owned the land had pleaded for men to be sent from Goldshire but had quickly found himself lost in the bureaucracy of the city's politics and resolved to pursue more expensive but decisive avenues of solving the problem. He had ordered the area boarded off until a mercenary could be hired to solve the problem. From the sounds of it the miners could have carried out the bloody task of displacing the kobolds on their own. Kobolds simply weren't much of a threat. Most were the size of a young child and equitable in strength. The fact that they hadn't run at the first sound of the miner's picks on the cavern side only meant that they had stumbled upon the kobolds home tunnel. Kobolds who normally ran at the first sign of trouble usually became exponentially stubborn when it came to a tunnel they considered their territory.

At that point, their rat like appearance and blood shot eyes had likely terrified the secluded village miner stumbling upon them in the dimly lit glow of a newly opened mining shaft. But Darus wasn't one to complain about a good thing. The job offered nice diversion from the long trip to the Westbrook Garrison and the real task he had been specifically contracted for.

As Darus began to descend the small hill he stopped dead. Someone was screaming. Darus focused his gaze and spied the ferry being surrounded by furred beasts wielding all manner of blunt instruments. Gnolls.

Three humans, the presumed owners of the ferry, were fleeing from their home unto the wooden platform that they used to transport travelers across the river. Darus mind quickly ran through his options. His first reaction was to simply ride away. He had learned long ago dismiss any of the stories surrounding heroic adventurers risking themselves for the better good of the people. Mercenaries were not heroes. They were soldiers for hire. That meant they got rewarded for their actions, regardless of what talespinner's claimed after the fact. No matter how trained or experienced, it took only one mistake in a warrior's line of work to end one's life. This was true regardless of how illustrious their career in battle was. Gnoll's were not casual work. They were aggressive and dangerous. Whatever their faults, they still possessed the brute strength to trade blows and the innate drive to kill that determined the difference between real warriors and the kind of men who would break after watching a man screaming in agony as his guts streamed from his stomach. There were other ferries in the area Darus could ford. There was nothing requiring him to make a stand here.

But Darus quickly dismissed this option. Regardless of the calculated decisions all mercenaries made, one did not reach Darus level of status without a certain degree of bravery and skill. Riding to another ferry would take hours. The runner that Darus had encountered had been very specific about the need for timeliness. Darus was the first mercenary the runner had encountered but he would not be the last one the runner would meet. The payment was first come first served. If Darus chose to detour there would be no assurance that another man wouldn't finish the job for him – making the entire effort a waste. Darus had experience with gnolls in the past and knew their weaknesses. In fact he had already formulated a plan to deal with them.

Resolving on aggressive action he swung from his horse and moved to tie his steed to a nearby tree. The first part of his plan would involve a certain degree of stealth that his dark charger could not assist him with. Daunter shot him a look as if to inquire if he was clinically insane and neighed in protest. By now the pleasant winds of the day had carried the gnoll's disgusting scent to the top of the hill, setting his horse on guard. Daunter's ears pressed sharp against his head as he struggled against being tied to the tree. Darus understood his horse's concern. There was no guarantee that there wasn't another gnoll hiding in the thicket just watching to see if his fellows were successful. Gnoll's were notoriously unpicky about their eating habits – even willing to eat those of their own kind. A tied up Daunter would pose an extremely attractive and vulnerable target to a hungry gnoll nearby. Giving up his efforts to tie his steed to a tree, Darus decided that he was better off with a runaway steed than a half-eaten one. Daunter was not a farm animal. He was a trained war horse who, in Darus opinion, possessed an almost disturbing human intelligence. If he ordered her to stay put he could be relatively confident that she would still be there when he came back. In the end he decided to tie her saddle to a small steak which he stuck into the ground. It indicated that he wanted her to stay but would not prevent the horses from bolting if she deemed it necessary. With that he move from the horse and descended the hill.

In his younger days Darus may have charged right into battle after a cursory examination of the situation. He had always been a headstrong fighter – one of the qualities that had distinguished him at such a young age. But those times were far behind him now. He was an aging man and had spent the last few years traveling on his own. Those realities made a much more cautious fighter out of Darus. He had learned the advantage of subterfuge and tact - both of which he would employ here.

The thick foliage provided him plenty of cover as he sidled up to the nearby tree and quickly examined the situation. Two of the gnolls had moved to ransack the house of the ferry family, while the other three raced after the family as they sought refuge on the ferry itself. The family itself consisted of a balding but strong limbed older man, a younger brawny teen, and another teen woman with rosy red hair. Darus presumed that the two teens were the older ferryman's children.

A green recruit first step would be to go to the aid of the family but Darus was no raw warrior. Gnolls suffered from a voracious appetite and once that hunger took control of them they developed proverbial visors and focused only on their prey. This was a notoriously easy state for a gnoll to descend, so the fact that two of the gnolls had forged past this drive and were focused on the potentially more lucrative household meant they were a far more deadly a threat. He would deal with them first.

Darus quickly looked around for a suitably sized stone and then moved quietly into position. About five and half feet tall, brown fur turned black with sludge, and long snouts grinning wide with rows of sharp teeth, the gnolls were a fierce sight to behold. Thankfully for Darus they were more focused on breaking in the small home's doors than their immediate surroundings. With a mental grunt Darus tossed the stone straight at the back of the bigger gnolls head before ducking back into the foliage. The stone hit with a smack as it hit the lead gnolls thick skull – sending him sprawling to the ground. The smaller gnoll quickly turned around looking for the source of the threat, his nose sniffing at the air. Within seconds he looked straight at Darus position and gave a snarl that was cut short as the larger gnoll leapt on top of him and began beating his face in with the stone.

A nobleman Darus once knew told him after a battle against a group of mercenary gnolls that if the beasts ever united as one people they could carve a kingdom out of any nation on Azeroth. But that would never happen. Because gnolls were far too busy fighting themselves. Gnoll's were utterly vain and prideful creatures and far too rash in their actions. The larger gnoll had opened his eyes and attacked the first thing he saw. He never once thought if anyone else could be involved. Though the ironic truth was that there was no reason for the larger gnoll to suspect another culprit. Even if Darus had never arrived, it was still possible that they younger gnoll would have attempted to stab the larger gnoll in the back so that he could claim all of the household's loot for himself.

The beast would not have the chance to regret his decision as Darus quickly surged forward, drawing his single handed long blade, and stabbed it in the neck. The gnoll died instantly and Darus quickly withdrew his bloodied blade from the creature's neck and surveyed the situation. The three family members were now trapped on the ferry. Not having time to push off from the shore, the eldest ferryman was now attempting to wield the ferry stick as a crude weapon. The long pole was incredibly unwieldy but to the man's credit he had chosen to couch it as spear and merely thrust forward when the gnolls inched closer. Swinging the long pole may have had more force but it would have left an easy opening for one of the other gnolls to jump on the ferry.

Darus broke into a sprint as he raced toward the gnolls. The two teens saw him approach and the boy nearly cried out before the younger girl grabbed his arm to stop him from giving Darus away. Silently thanking the woman for not being a completely idiot he charged right into the first of the three gnolls. Darus blade tore through the gnolls back and out the other side of his chest. Grunting in effort he quickly withdrew his blade from the creature's chest and avoided its wild swing as it fell to the ground in the throes of death.

The two other gnolls wheeled around then, and with a snarl of surprise and rage, charged at Darus. This provided the perfect opening for the man wielding the pole to finally swing his makeshift weapon. With all the strength the career ferry worker could muster he swung the pole, smacking the closest beast in the back and sending it crashing into the ground. With a sickening thud the beast forehead smacked into a large nearby rock. The beast laid still as black blood oozed from his skull and into a widening pool on the ground.

That left just one beast for Darus. This gnoll differed from the others because he wielded an actual blade, one eerily similar to that which was used by the crown's soldiery. But his red eyes gleaned with the same consuming hunger. With a clang the two combatant's blades met and separated before clashing again. The gnoll was smaller than Darus but he still possessed the feral power of a being that had spent his whole life in conflict. The problem with gnolls was that they fought too much – not that they couldn't fight. Quick as a viper the creature swung low forcing Darus to leap backwards, allowing the creature time to slash back at the grizzly warrior again. Darus twisted his body aside once more but this time used the momentum of his spin to reply with a quick riposte of his own from on high. The gnoll brought up his blade in time to defend the attack, but Darus pressed down hard, using the advantage of his height. With a grunt of pure exertion Darus pushed the gnolls blade aside before returning for another high blow quickly followed by another and another. The beast was strong but was forced to exert much more energy than Darus to turn the human's blade aside. Realizing his situation the gnoll snarled and kicked out, forcing Darus to quickly shift the positioning of his legs to avoid the attack. As Darus did so the beast hurled his thick body forward to tackle Darus to the ground.

This was just the move the old mercenary had been waiting for. Switching his stance mid exchange, Darus moved to the side, and allowed the gnoll to careen past him. Moving his blade up as the gnoll passed, Darus slashed it deep across the gnoll's stomach and through his ribs. With an agonized squeal the beast hurled to the ground. Sweat dripping like rain from his brow, a panting Darus moved to finish the beast off. As Darus approached, the beast squealed in terror. Desperately it clawed at the ground with one hand in an attempt to drag himself away, while trying to hold his guts in his stomach with the other. The smell of shit quickly formed as the beast defecated as he lost control of his bowels.

Darus paused for a moment as he was shaken by sense of dejavu. A scene so similar to this one. The first person he had ever killed. The action had been hard back then. He had nearly let his former enemy go before he mustered the resolve to do what he had to. Any soldier knew stomach wounds were the most painful of injuries. Back then he had consoled himself with the knowledge that his foe would have died anyways and in a far longer and painful fashion. This time no consolation was required. With practiced ease Darus ran the beast through the neck as it squealed and turned dispassionately from the corpse.

* * *

Another hour found him on the road toward Abell. The ferry family had been exulted in their rescue and had thanked Darus profusely. That jubilation had died quickly when Darus brusquely informed them that they would have to leave as soon as they ferried him across the river. It was clear the gnoll were on the move west.

"But this is our home," the ferry's owner Bruck Haysman protested, "We will just have to request some guardsman for the river way."

"Any many worth his salt has been drafted to the war down south. And I don't think you'll like your chances for a second rescue," Darus replied frankly.

The man had just shaken his head and offered to get him on his way across the river. The two children who had before stared at him with glowing exaltation now glared at him with suspicion. Darus wasn't surprised. He had no home but he could imagine his state of mind if someone ordered him to leave it. He had gone from savior to dark messenger in five seconds flat. Don't shoot the messenger indeed.

But when they had crossed the river, the man still thanked him again, and told him he would have free service should he ever return. Darus simply nodded. He had no intentions of coming back around but he knew if he did there would be no ferryman to channel him across.

It was nearing evening when Darus finally came across Abell and his face remained passive as he gazed at the burned down hamlet.

* * *

_Starting to get closer to the type of story that The Mercenaries is about. It was a little difficult writing this chapter because I'm a writer who thrives on dialogue but I hope I did a good enough job keeping any reader's attention before we arrive at places where deeper conversation is sensible. Please tell me if there is anything you think could be done better and feel free to drop a review._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three**

* * *

Darus picked his way through the remnants of the small mining hamlet. The calamity that had struck the simple folk had passed away some time ago. Though soot stained most of the building walls, and the remnants of straw from the roofs were scorched black, nothing else continued to burn. It was why Darus had not seen any smoke on the horizon; the fires had burned themselves out the night before. By the grizzled mercenary's rough estimate, the place had probably already been attacked right around when the messenger had reached Darus asking for assistance.  
"Fantastic," Darus thought to himself, "Risked my life for a ghost town."

Darus looked around for village folk but found none. The lack of corpses was clear proof of what had caused this. Only one thing in Elwynn bothered with the corpse of dead men. And that was the creature that took them to be consumed at its own convenience. Say what you would about the gnolls, they certainly weren't wasteful.

Darus knew he should be feeling some sympathy for the poor peasants who had been slaughtered but he mostly found himself pitying the time and effort he had wasted. The mercenary had seen dozens of devastated hamlets during the Orcsea. He was sure he would see more in the future. That was simply the way of things. Really, this destroyed hamlet was a step above most he had been to. At least he wasn't faced with any muted dead eyes, pleading for an answer to explain the injustice done to them. Until he ran into another village square with a young maiden impaled on a pike in the center, Darus would consider this massacre a net win.

As Darus reached the end of the small village a voice called out behind him, "Seen enough of these in your life time haven't you Darus?"

Darus whirled around then, drawing his blade smoothly as he did so. His gaze quickly swept over the the source of the voice. It was a woman about five and ten knuckles, with most of the height present in her long slender legs. She was clad from head to foot in dark brown studded leather armor and dark vanilla wool. Upon her breastplate a three fingered scrap could be seen visibly indenting the armor. She bore no trinkets of any kind save a simple string necklace with three vibrant feathers, one blue, one green, and one gold. It was clear her face was once more than simply pretty but it was clearly now weathered from age or strain. Her eyes were a deep vibrant brown that burned with life and character. Her hair was cropped short with whatever womanly length remaining lost in the strong tight string binding it close to her scalp.

"It's been a time Darus," murmured the woman, her own hands empty at her side. After a few more moments under Darus quiet eyes she piped up once more. "Forgot how stunning I was?" she asked coyly, tossing her head as if she possessed another woman's long locks. Darus remained silent and continued to study. At this point the woman sighed "Which I can hardly say for you Darus. You look like something a troll shat out."  
This remark seemed to break Darus from his contemplation. "Excuse me?" he snarled.

"You heard me Darus. Light man did you forget how to shave? You've got whiskers on your left cheek and you're clean as a babe on the other. I promise you it's the same technique both ways, never against the grain." She pointed to his unsheathed blade as Darus began to seethe, "Please tell me you at least remember how to wield a sword. Granted you unsheathed it right but if a man can forget to shave then we really can't rule any-"

She was cut short then as Darus leapt forward in a furious rush – and bundled her into his arms. The woman quieted, hugging the mercenary back and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Selene…" Darus breathed slowly into her ear, "…you've grown old."

With that Selene gave a loud shrill noise and pushed him away as the mercenary began to bark with laughter.

"And you Darus," she accused shaking her finger at him, "Are an absolute and intolerable ass."

The grizzled mercenary reply was simply to bark another laugh as he grinned at the woman, "It's been too long sister."

"Not long enough apparently. It seems it will take an entire age before you learn any manners."  
"Longer than even that I'm afraid."  
"I doubt all eternity would be long enough."  
"You're probably right."  
The two stood quiet then, as they sat in the glow of their reunion. Selene began to speak but it was Darus who broke the silence. "What are you doing here Selene?"

"Looking for you."

"Why?"  
"I missed you," she said simply, her voice taut.

Darus reached over to hug her again and they sat silently for a moment before releasing each other.

"I have missed you too Selene," he admitted quietly, as much to himself as to her. He paused for beat before asking hesitantly," The others?"

"They are fine. Or at least they were when I left. Which to be honest was not long after you."

The meaning of the comment hit Darus quickly. "You mean you are no longer with them?"  
"No Darus," Selene voice took on a hint of reproach, "You were not the only one who needed a change of pace."

"Not the only?" Darus faced was surprised, "You mean there were others?"

"More than a few. Less than them all. Kantoris, Beyren, Argus, Tyson, Dana, Aumera, and Estelen."  
Darus eyes were wide now. "That's the entire old guard," he gasped.

Selene voice was almost cold, "Yes Darus it is."  
"But the company…who…" Darus seemed at loss for words.

"Don't worry about it," Selene patted his arm comfortingly and all trace of chill was gone when she spoke again, "The Baron was handed the reins. That bastard is more responsible than the eight of us put together.  
Darus visibly relaxed at this information and his shoulders sagged slightly in relief.

"I'm surprised the old man was willing to take the job."  
"He wasn't. I told him if he didn't accept the position I'd kill him and if he didn't keep the job after we left I'd hunt him down and kill him later," Selene replied sweetly.

Darus nodded. He knew her well enough to know she wasn't kidding.

"So where did you go?"

"Here, there, and everywhere between," Selene replied, "We departed from Watergate to South Shore. We intended to travel together at least to Stromgarde and spend our winnings but Estelen and Argus departed ways with us there. We left then for the Arathi Highlands but we encountered a storm and were forced to dock at Menethil Harbor instead."  
Selene's voice took a seething sour tone as she continued, "Our reward was lost in that storm. I suppose we should have been happy to escape with our lives but I for one have considered myself broken ever since losing all that treasure. The prospect of another storm appealed to none of us so we made plans to move south with a caravan. Tyson decided to stay."

Selene smiled wanly then, looking at Darus, "He said it was for the good work to be had but I don't think it was a coincidence that not a day before our departure our company was treated to a story of brutish orc's pillaging villages along the mountainside," she gave a small laugh then, "I also don't think it was a coincidence that the one telling us was a young lass with a bust most men would pay to rest their heads upon."  
Darus offered her a small smile of his own in return, "Tyson always loved playing the hero. Too much for a mercenary, it was dangerous for him and everyone around him."  
"Ah," replied Selene softly, "Then all the more foolish of us to accept him in our company. But Light he could fight like a bear protecting its cubs when it came down to it, you know he – actually do you have some water? My throat is absolutely parched."

Darus reached down to his belt and drew forth a cantina which Selene began to drink from greedily, "You know as much as I love to talk my throat doesn't always agree," she said as she wiped the wetness from her lips.

"Anyways, "she continued, "The rest of us took the caravan south to the Loch Modan. A very eventful journey but a story for another time. By the time we reached the roads through the mountains Kantoris had left us – run off with a group of his kin we encountered on the road. Aumera went with him though for what reason I can only imagine. From there we went to Thelsamar and from there to Ironforge. This entire journey taking more time than you could possibly imagine mind you. But the time I took the Deepway to Stormwind I had only myself for company." Selene took another swing of the water before finishing, "Then I grew lonely."

Darus who had been listening with uncharacteristic care through her long tale spoke then, "That doesn't explain how you found me."

Selene patted his shoulder again and murmured, "A story for another time my friend. For now I would prefer we did not seek solace in a graveyard."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Darus jibed darkly.

"But I sincerely hope it will be the last. Come now. My horse is in a clearing near here. And I'm sure that ornery steed of yours is around here somewhere. We will make camp for the night."  
"How do you know I haven't gotten rid of the ass?" asked Darus.

"Because asses love company and you are still the biggest ass I know."

* * *

Chapter three is done folks. Took a long time but now that christmas break has come I can really dive into this once again. Please let me know if you enjoyed the dialogue, if it was too much, or too difficult to follow. I'm a dialogue author so I am always looking for critique's of that. But feel free to comment on anything you wish. I know it sounds silly but the few seconds you to take to say something mean the world to people like me. Thank you all for reading.


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